My Bipolar Journal - Episode 33

My Bipolar Journal – Episode 33

December 30, 2006

Probably my last 2006 entry. Who knows? Kind of a shitty way to end a year. My Papaw died Thursday. One of my best friends ever (and I mean ever) has decided that I'm not as great of a friend as he has been. I'm very depressed. I'm very sad. I'm very sucky. Shit happens. I know this isn't the worst it's ever been, I know it isn't the lowest I'll ever go, but it doesn't make it suck any less. To the one who thinks I have wronged you, you are and always will be one of the best friends I've ever ever ever experienced. You always will be. You'll always be a part of my heart that I can never replace and never would want to. You'll apparently always be a part of my heart that will never know this.

I'm done pretending. I don't know that I ever have, but if I ever did, I'm really done. Even as I say it, I know it may not be true entirely. Even as I hope and discover these things I know that I can barely help myself because I am unfortunately Human. I despise that fact tonight. Whomever it is (and I'm fairly certain I know) that made my friends feel this way I want to hate, but I still can't. I did nothing wrong and I am certain of it in this instance. All I know is that forever and always I will be there for those who are there for me. I will do anything whether they will return the favor or not. Maybe it makes me pathetic. Maybe it makes me alone, but it will never make me ashamed. Not the way I would love to be.

My Bipolar Journal - Episode 32

My Bipolar Journal – Episode 32

December 27, 2006

Okay, so yesterday wasn't quite the drunken nervous breakdown I was dreading that I had posted although I'm sure it would have entertained me today. I finally had my breakdown last night though, which was sort of horrible and humiliating, but not too bad. It made me realize a lot of things.

First of all, seriously, why do we think its okay to starve people to death. People have asked me what is wrong with my Papaw and I've had the privilege of up until now just saying that he's old. I mean he has some Parkinson's and diabetes and so on and so forth, but basically he's dying because he's old. Now I can say, well, he was old so they decided to starve him to death. "How did he die, Jenn?" "Oh, they starved him to death." People have ways they never wish they would die. Smothering, fire, drowning, etc. Honestly though, I think I would take any of those over starving to death. All of those things take a matter of minutes or hours to die from. Starving takes days. I just hope that the person dying is delusional enough to not notice. Even murderers are given lethal injection, but when old people die, good and honest people, we've decided that the most humane way to treat them is take them off any sort of life support and have them wither away. It's evil. My grandfather certainly doesn't deserve that. Put a needle in his arm and end his life. Then I feel guilty for even thinking that, but this is the most horrible thing I've ever heard of.

I've also realized that I am truly spending too much time giving only a few people no credit for not being there when I call or even feigning concern when I truly have some stellar friends who have been there and stuck around and listen to me babble on like an idiot. They truly deserve a lot of credit, but leave it to me to focus on the few that are blatantly ignoring me. Even Chris has truly stepped up to the plate and been there for me and I will always be grateful to know him.

My Bipolar Journal - Episode 31

My Bipolar Journal – Episode 31

December 27, 2006

So, something is definitely wrong. There is no way in hell that friends would ignore me during this fucking bullshit even if they thought I was being dramatic. Either that or my friends are shit once again which I refuse to believe which may be even worse. Me and my over-estimating my friends. God, I'm so hopeful. Hahahahaha! Anyway, I hope I'm just on everyone's nerves and they get over it soon.

My Papaw is still alive. I feel so horrible because they're basically starving him to death. They're not hydrating him, their not making sure he's fed. What the fuck is up with that? Euthanasia is illegal, but it's okay to starve and dehydrate someone? It almost makes me want to smother people. It's not fair. If I ever get to the point that you have to starve or dehydrate me, please give me the lethal injection. Or smother me with a pillow. It's just wrong. It's not fair. Everyone is going crazy while my grandfather starves to death. It's horrible. It's humiliating.

My Bipolar Journal - Episode 30

My Bipolar Journal – Episode 30

December 24, 2006

So, I'm back at my parents after a few grueling days following the grueling, yes, I said it, Mexican family dinner we had the other day. My mom has actively been playing martyr. You can't talk about anything anymore. She'll just interrupt you or change the subject to be about her and the issues she's enduring with the ongoing dilemma of my Grandfather's death. I've been forced on the phone twice since I've told her that I don't want to talk to him anymore. Well, not forced. I'm definitely exaggerating. It's just that I've told her that I don't want to do this anymore and she wants me to. If she feels like it helps him, then fine, but I feel like she tries to push me into these situations so that I will break into tears and she can console me. Another reason I truly hope I'm not here when it does happen (which could be any minute now).

I'm sure to those of you who don't know me I sound like an insensitive bitch, but I'm truly just a realist. He's old, he dies. I should be glad it wasn't while he was young and that I got to know him for nearly 30 years of my life and I am. The fact that two of my grandmothers are still alive is pretty darn amazing as well. I'm grateful for those things. Death is something that happens to everyone. How can I change that? I can't, so I don't try to.

I'm fairly certain I've annoyed the crap out of some people that I wish I hadn't. I'm trying to be better about it, but it's like there's nothing I can do to make it better. There never is when you're bipolar. Everyone reads into every.... little..... thing you say or do. Real emotions stop existing to them after a while. I think I've put myself into that boat again. My friends no longer believe that I'm Human. Why does this always happen around the death of a family member for me? I have to feel completely abandoned every time and I can't truly be upset about anything because no one really believes me anyway. I only have emotions because I'm manic-depressive, not because I can actually muster up an ounce of emotion. And it's certainly not all of my friends and it's certainly not pure abandonment, but sometimes it just feels that way and the crazy part of my brain tells me that that is the way that it is.

I just realized something the other day while thinking about going back on medication for a moment. I mean, the biggest excuse that I have is that I don't have insurance or the money to pay for it and that I'm afraid of losing myself again, but really, I think I'm more afraid of wanting Chris back again. I think about it a lot, but I know its bad news. I think about it a lot though when I feel as though my friends have sort of abandoned me. I know really that they haven't, but that they're just annoyed, but that's always when I need them the most.

So, the update is now that my Papaw will probably be dying within the hour. It's so unusual how I'm not really thinking about it, but that it still makes me cry just knowing the knowledge is there somewhere embedded in the crevices of my brain. Usually, I have to really think about how I won't see him again and there's no way to see him again and a bunch of other morbid things. I called my brother and he's pretty upset I can tell. He's the "good kid" though.

My Bipolar Journal - Episode 29

My Bipolar Journal – Episode 29

December 21, 2006

Unforgivable - Plumb

I'm never told that I am pretty
I'm never told that I am kind
And my soul burns now with fire
Deep inside

I want to become brave and courageous
Not buried in self-pity of my own
Ashamed and alone from all
That's been done to me
It's not my fault I remind myself

You say you don't be afraid
But I feel afraid
You say you don't laugh or cry
But I show emotion
You say food will be on the table
And birds in the sky
But I'm hungry
So hungry
And it's cloudy outside

You never loved me like a daughter
You never even loved yourself
And now you treat me like a burden
Just another object on your shelf

I want you to know that I love you
And this pain that I carry's not my own
Ashamed and alone
From all that's been done to you
It's not your fault
I remind myself

No matter what I've done
Or is done to me
Nothing unforgivable
Or unable to be set free

My Bipolar Journal - Episode 28

My Bipolar Journal – Episode 28

December 14, 2006

I feel like maybe the universe is trying to give me some sort of subtle hint to stay home and not move forever. I actually got attacked today in the elevator at the library. Now anyone who knows the Greater Cincinnati Public Library of downtown knows it houses many a shady creature or two. This woman was actually kind of stalking me through the streets and ranting on and on about all sorts of crazy shit, actually went up to a woman in a wheelchair, took a package out of her hands and threw it on the ground. She jumped in the elevator with me, stood there and waited for the doors to close. I asked her to push "2" for me and she tried to grab my stuff out of my hands and try to wail on me. Now seeing as how she was out of her mind she didn't get very far. Just as I was about to start having her face meet parts of my body that had stopped working out of shock for a moment, she just stopped. She had pushed me into the alarm of the elevator, so the doors wouldn't open, but she just stood there until the doors opened. It was at that point I realized my face was bleeding as I walked back to the information desk and told them the woman tried to attack me. Well, "tried" is a bit loose. She did. Anyway, she was arrested and taken to jail. The cut on my face looks like a mangled paper cut, but that thing bled like a son of a bitch.

So, what I really would like for Christmas is an award for the worst week ever. At least of anyone I know. I don't care if it's drawing attention to me. It's time for me to admit that I can't stop the drama. I try to keep myself from being overly dramatic about too much because of my "condition", however, drama seems to seek me out. It's never something small either. I can't be the girl with a hangnail. I have to be the girl that gets attacked in the elevator of the Hamilton County Public Library. So, I say bring it on. Award me up. Feel sorry for me. Ask me questions about it so I can embellish the story and cry a little to try to get boys to hold me. Fuck it. I will tell my story to near strangers just to see the look of shock on their face. It will be an amazing feat of attention-grabbing.

MY KINGDOM FOR A STICK OF DEODERANT!

My Bipolar Journal - Episode 27

My Bipolar Journal – Episode 27

December 13, 2006

So, I actually got a phone call yesterday (rather than a text message) that my Papaw is on his way to the Hospice Hospital. So, how do I deal with all that exactly? No, I'm actually asking. I don't think my mom is being overly dramatic again. I can be wrong, but I don't know what to do after he dies. I'm the worst reactor ever. Do I tell my parents that I think going to a viewing is disrespectful and that I don't want to go or do I suck it up and give in to the disgusting ritual.

I've been labeled co-dependent by someone else. Do they actually realize that it takes two to tango in the co-dependency world? I've accepted my co-dependency at least. I don't think the people that accuse me of being co-dependent really know the definition. As long as I'm not going overboard, I don't really see the harm in it. I can let things go, but, yes, I'm always going to try to fix things and think that I can. I don't really see too much wrong with being co-dependent to be honest. As long as you can keep it under control and not be an enabler of some sort. I try to be reasonable about the people I try to help. You know, there is an electronic test you can take to find out if you're co-dependent. Let me give you a word of advice, if you're tempted to take this test, even a little, you're co-dependent.

Later

So, I've found out that yes, my Papaw is dying, but not as quickly as I was told in the prior evening. You think the shock would wear off. Needless to say, I have found out there is no viewing, so that's a relief. My mom then proceeds to tell me as well that if I want to say bye to him or something I can, although I've already had to deal with the fact that I already have. I tried to be polite and said I'd kind of already dealt with that and that unless she thought it would help him I had kind of finalized things in my head. She continues to tell me about how my brother is so much more sensitive than I am (only not that way, she said it her way). My mom is nice, I promise, but there are just these subtleties that she gives that make me feel like she isn't truly happy with how I turned out. I can't help who I am.

More people are annoyed with me. What else is new? What I hate is when someone can't just come out and say it. I realize I'm a bit obsessive and tend to cling to one thing at a time, but just let me get through it. Unfortunately, by the time someone gets that I'm not trying to dry hump their leg every five minutes I've annoyed them to death and I can't even seem to do anything about it. Usually they can't even pinpoint the problem, so it ends up hurting my feelings and I get all weepy and hurt and then that annoys people even more. Including myself. That may be the thing no one gets the most. I wish I could stop. It's so weird not being able to control yourself. You would think it was simpler. You would think it was possible, but it's just not that easy.

Then again, I've been known to take things too personally.

My Bipolar Journal - Episode 26

My Bipolar Journal – Episode 26

December 3, 2006

So, I can't seem to get out of high school. I can't decide if it's in my brain or in real life anymore. This is so stupid. I know there are things I should never consider again, but I can't help it.

Boys and their stupid feelings just piss me off. I can't seem to move without being judged. I get it. I'm not hot anymore. I'm usually okay with that until I start to get ridiculed. As if I don't know that a mild attempt at making fun of me is a real way of making fun of me.

Sometimes, I just wish I would die tomorrow so that the people that know they have acted this way would know that I noticed. Just to think that I showed them something and taught them a lesson. It's sick. It's twisted, but I think more people feel like me every day and don't have the honest to God balls to say it.

I'm hurt. I like someone and it hurts that they don't like me back, but even worse is the fact that I don't want to like them and that it hurts that they don't like me back and then that I'm pissed that I even like them in the first place. This is why I don't want to like boys. Or girls. It just sucks. All the time. There is no good that can come from it.

What's even worse is that I can't even seem to stop myself. I know these people don't like me, but I can't seem to avoid looking like a dumbass in front of them. It's keeping me up. It is nearly 4 in the morning on a Sunday morning in Pittsburgh and I can't seem to help myself except to be hurt. It is so dumb and I know it, but I can't stop from acting like a jerk. I can't stop liking jerks. It's an epidemic. It's twisted. I'm a jackass and I can't stop it which makes me even more of a jackass.

I'm tired of being "that girl" and I can't stop being her all at the same time. I surrender! I give up! There's nothing I can do to stop myself and I'd rather die than be this person, but no one gets it. No one cares. They just see these selfish attempts at me trying to get some sort of attention. In real life I don't care, but in bipolar life it seems to mean the world to me.

Fuck this. Fuck you. Fuck it all! I can't keep doing this! If I go back on medication I can't feel what I feel and if I do then I go back to feeling nothing all the time. I can't even think of a worse disease. I can't even think of anything worse than your soul dying. I can't think of anything better than the high I get from this either, but it doesn't matter.

So, the question is, which way to I torture myself day in and day out? Which way do I go? Is there a right way? Is there a right way for "normal" people?

I can't even choose for myself. I hate that I'll read this on one day when I'm not feeling quite as insane and send myself into another downward spiral. There is just no way to live like this. Snide comments, rude gestures, bullshit rages.... none of it is real. None of these people are real. None of these relationships exist!